oil, granny smith apples, one daily niacin, peaches, baby royal gala apples,is that you? is that how you’re gonna live? my life is afflicted withincertitude; my nature starts from facts and actualities which it takes

for real; it is pushed beyond them into a pursuit of uncertain possibilitiesand led eventually to question all that it took as real. I proceed from a fundamental ignorance and hold no assured truth; all the truths on

which I rely for a time are found to be partial, incomplete and questionable:I am happy, joyful, on top of the world, tickled pink, carefree or cheeryI am content, then low-spirited, dejected, melancholy, inconsolably sad.

Chat with the check-out clerk: two bags please, balanced. I’ll beon the bus. I know what you mean I take the 27 it’s usually so full.the 43’s pretty good but you can never be sure. thanks. thanks.

NIGHT

the moon’s huge tonight: looks like a movie FX; painfulbold white bone-glow close so close reach out beach ball brightthrough the Venetian blinds. San Francisco City Hall dome

glowing in the late summer Saturday nightness in a city out dancingand that huge transient unhappy tramp moon share the same window:sisters of roundness, brothers of possibility, tango partners.

I go near her, she who gave birth to me, I’m sad. her eyes, who’sclose to death, I am alone, she watches me, she’s gleaming, she’s hiding,she’s sleeping in a lullaby, at summer’s end, the last days, what should I do.

I’m sure there’s a movie I could watch. A movie explaining to me whatI am to feel or will feel or want to feel; a visual jolt, a subliminal music:so it is with everything, a means of escape: enter the body of the Sun.